From Tia

It's been a long time

I wrote Tia's story a year ago when I was still learning the ropes of writing. If you go back and read Tia's Bloom, you will notice that my writing style has evolved since then. However, even when I was just starting, I kept copious notes on the characters. Fortunately, I saved these notes in a Notion page rather than a notebook.

This is my first letter in Lustful Letters. As I write more letters, the style these letters will evolve. However, the purpose of these letters is to give you an intimate look into the characters. These letters are meant to be read privately, like a lover's letter.

Tia, imagined with Stable Diffusion

Before You Read

Lustful Letters are meant to be standalone letters from the characters themselves. There will be heavy references to their original stories. This letter is from Tia. I wrote the story about her first time in Tia’s Bloom

Tia's Bloom - Part 1

It’s been a long day today. I am not used to taking trains, but that’s the only way for me to come home. I wouldn’t have come home, if it were not for my mother’s persistent calls, about her reminding me that this was my home and that I should be visiting it. What would the neighbors think of? Has the daughter run away with someone? Why else is she not getting married, even when she’s 26?

It’s been some time since I have sat down to write a letter. I was never used to writing letters. I am used to writing emails. I am used to replying dick pics and messages telling me that I look hot in dp. I am not used to writing a letter, especially a letter to you.

I didn’t know, for the longest of times, that you have seen me. I didn’t know that you were watching me while I was getting fingered by Rohan in the living room. I didn’t know that you saw me when Tanmay, guided Rohan’s dick inside me. I didn’t know you saw me become a woman. I was just 18 then. Scared and excited. Nervous and horny.

If I knew you were watching, I would have probably looked at you in the eyes when I felt Rohan enter me. It’s a feeling that I still remember. Not because it was the most pleasure I’ve ever felt. But because it was the first time something entered inside me, so deeply. If I knew you were looking at me, I would have moaned louder, to let you know how special that summer afternoon, all those years ago was.

It’s been 8 years since that afternoon. I am still in my room, as I write this. The room hasn’t changed much since I left for college. Well, there’s more stuff here. More of my mom’s things, more of my dad’s things. But, the bed is still the same. The same bed, where I lost my virginity. The same bed, where I watched my brother, Tanmay, make Rohan suck his dick. Rohan’s dick was inside me, he was connected with me in a way that no other human before him ever was. It was such a taboo, such a forbidden act. And yet, it was so incredibly hot.

That afternoon changed me. For better or for worse, I wouldn’t know. Time and again, in all these years, I have thought about it. I have thought about it while doing things that made men chuckle, the things that made them moan, and that made my female friends say ‘eww’.

It changed me as a woman. When your first time is with your brother’s boyfriend, when in your first time you are fingered in the living room — nothing seems off-limits.

I moved to college shortly after that day. Well, three months after that day. Those three months were frustrating. I had things to think about, and the I saw guys in a different way. Before that I was a tease. I didn’t know what my teasing would lead to, what my body could feel. When I felt it, I wanted more of it. But it was so hard to have that experience again.

A guy from my coaching class, who would text me now and then, texted me how I was doing. It was barely a week after my first time. I indulged him in the conversation, blushing and smiling at every comment he made. He told me that I looked hot in the dp. I sent him a selfie right then. I was in bed, under my sheets, naked. He could see my bare shoulders. He asked me if I was naked, to which I only replied with an emoji.

And the next picture was his dick pic. It was my first dick pic. I won’t say it was traumatizing. Phone cameras weren’t the best, and after having had a dick inside me, having sucked on a dick, having held a throbbing hard dick, the picture looked underwhelming. But, I indulged him.

“This is so hot,” I had replied. I had wet my fingers and touched myself as I wrote to him.

“I wish I could see more of you,” he replied quickly.

And showed him. More of me. All of me. I had stood in front of my mirror, naked. I had pushed my chest out, held one of my breasts in one hand and clicked the picture (without my face of course). He sent me a video, of him jerking off. It was a 1 minute video. I heard him moan and call my name. He came in the video, the video blurry from his rapid motion of his hand, the urgency of him jerking off. I couldn’t see the first spurt of his cum, too blurry. But he showed me, pointing the camera on the floor.

“I loved doing it for you,” he said.

Later that night, I touched myself. I wasn’t particularly thinking of that guy whom I made cum with my nude (my first nude, now that I think of it). I was thinking of his hard dick, the reaction that a simple pose in the mirror did. The urgency of his thrusts. I imagined him fucking me, his dick, inside my pussy, pumping away. And his cum, inside me instead of the floor. I wish I could feel how the cum felt inside me.

I had to wait for some time to find that.

---

The first few months in college were fun, mostly because of the novelty of it all: a new way of learning, all new faces, a new roommate, and a new place. I liked Pune, as a city. I loved its weather. I didn’t go out as much as my roommate did, but I heard stories from her.

My roommate, Oliva, was different from the rest of the girls. I know this now, but I didn’t know it then. I thought it was usual for girls to walk around the room without a bra, wearing muscle tees that showed too much side boob. I thought it was usual for girls to change in front of each other. Oliva would often pull off her tee shirt, and face me while wearing her bra. Whenever we made eye contact while she dressed up, she would smile, and I would smile back.

I didn’t do that. I liked to think that I was shy. I thought I was different and not comfortable stripping naked in front of her.

I joined the dance club at my college. It was a fun crowd. The first time I was asked to dance on stage for induction, I was nervous. They had asked us to wear clothes that we were comfortable in. I had worn my favorite pair of yoga pants and a white tee shirt. The song was to be chosen by the “judges”, who were simply students two years senior to me. Two guys and a girl watched me intently as I danced. I was nervous, but I have always thought that I could move my body the way I want to.

Two days later, I got a message from Avinash, one of the seniors, that I had been accepted, and that I should come for the practice sessions from the next evening.

And I did.

The friends I made there were, well, superficial. The girls who were inducted with me looked the same: relatively tall, slender, with an ass to look at. I was the slowest of them all, with the most to learn.

It was not the most friendly place to be. The clique of girls told me that my ass was too big, that I should wear a sports bra because my breasts jiggled too much, and that I should lose some weight from my waist.

There was an event that we were working for, a group dance. It was going to be my first performance ever in front of pretty much the whole college. I made it to the group of five dancers. I stayed late, redoing every step. Our choreographer was Avinash.

I could never understand him. One moment he would be all caring for me, and the other moment he would tell me that he made a mistake inducting me because I can’t even understand the rhythm.

Three days before the dance, I stayed late, replaying the song over and over again. Avinash had the keys to the club room. It was close to 9 PM, and I got a call from him asking me if I had left.

“No, I am done here,” I said, panting.

“You were still practicing?” he asked me.

“Yes.”

“I am coming there to lock up. Should be there in 10,” he hung up, without waiting for my reply.

I had packed everything up and was waiting outside the club room for him to come. It was a chilly December evening. I had sweated a lot; my yoga pants felt tighter than they used to. The breeze helped. I was scrolling through my phone when Avinash said from behind, “I thought you would have left.”

It startled me.

Avinash was tall and had a baritone voice. He had a broad chest and a slim waist, a swimmer’s body that he used for dancing. Although I had not seen him dance, I had heard that he could flex his body in ways that were unimaginable.

“Yeah, I thought you would want me to wait,” I said.

He was quiet for a moment and gestured for me to come inside the club room.

I used to call the club room grand, but it was an unused classroom with a raised platform and a couple of benches in front of it.

“I have to collect a few things. Help me with them?” he said as we went inside.

He closed the door behind us, which thudded shut. I had been alone in that room for hours, but at that moment, when Avinash closed the door, it felt different. The air in the room suddenly felt thicker.

I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that we had sex. You would be right.

I didn’t mean to do that. Avinash had a girlfriend, Aditi. I had seen them together in cafeterias and classrooms, sitting on benches and talking. Aditi was a sweet girl, and we had made eye contact a few times. I had smiled, mostly in awe of how cool she looked with her nose ring and black wristband. She had smiled back and turned to her boyfriend.

But I had sex with her boyfriend.

Tia, imagined with Stable Diffusion

It started simply. All Avinash had to say was, “I heard that you are nervous about the event.”

“I am. I have—”

“Don’t be,” he interrupted me, placing his fingers on my bare waist. I didn’t show much skin, just a strip of it between my gym vest and yoga pants. I should have flinched away or reacted negatively, but I didn’t.

I looked down at his fingers on my waist. He quietly caressed me and said in a breathy voice, “You are hot. All you have to do is wear something tight.”

I was quiet. I should have objected. I was there to dance, not to show my hot body. But it weakened me to be touched like that inside a locked room.

I had one more chance to stop it all when he leaned forward to kiss me. I could have put my hand on his chest and told him that it wasn’t appropriate. I should have turned away. Instead, I stood there frozen in place as his lips touched mine.

It didn’t take him long to pull me toward him. He grabbed my waist, his fingers gripping me tightly as he kissed me. I opened my mouth to let his tongue in. I hadn’t kissed anyone since Rohan. Avinash felt different.

I kept telling myself quietly that it was not right. But it was me. I had lost my virginity to my brother’s boyfriend. My brother had guided his boyfriend’s dick inside me. That afternoon had blurred the lines of what was appropriate.

Avinash fucked me unceremoniously. While Rohan had fingered me and was gentle, all Avinash did was peel my pants down, then my panties. He bent me over a bench and touched my pussy. I wasn’t wet, but he wetted me with his spit. I heard the exaggerated sound of him spitting on his fingers. He rubbed my slit. I was facing away from him.

When I tried to turn my head toward him, he grabbed the back of my neck and pushed me down, pinning me against the bench with my ass toward him.

I didn’t know when he had fished his dick out, but he was already hard. I felt it when his warm dickhead brushed against my pussy. I looked back, only to see his face, concentrated on my ass, his one hand on the small of my back, and the other guiding his dick.

It hurt. He wasn’t gentle with his entry. He entered a little and pulled out, only to enter back inside with his entire length.

“You are tight,” he said when he was fully inside me.

My neck hurt from looking back at him. And it was futile because he wasn’t looking at my face. His eyes were on my ass.

When he started fucking me over that bench, it hurt. I whimpered and moaned, only for him to remark, “I didn’t expect you to be so tight,” between his thrusts.

I tried to raise myself, only to be pinned down again. My pants and panty were still at my ankles, and my feet felt restrained. He raised one of his feet on the bench, and his thrusts suddenly felt deeper. It turned me on to be fucked that way. To be called tight.

Avinash groaned and whistled. His thrusts became urgent. I was only starting to feel good when he pulled out and tugged at my hair. I flinched, but I had to follow his pull. He tried to push me down to kneel on the floor. I had only one knee on the floor when his cum hit my glasses. My vision was blurred. I raised my palm, only to feel the next spurt land on my hair. He groaned, with his eyes closed.

When he let go of my hair, I opened my eyes to see him walk away. He leaned against a bench, his dick still glistening from the juices in my pussy. I took off my glasses. I could see that some of his cum had landed on my gym vest, his white cum conspicuous over my dark vest. My pussy ached from his penetration. I needed more from him, but all I got was him standing afar, and smiling.

“I expect this to be our little secret,” he said.

I got up and searched for something to clean his cum off my glasses and my hair and waist. He handed me his handkerchief.

I was still naked, my pants still down. He was looking at my pussy, my sparsely shaved pussy. I wished he could have fucked me longer. I was, after all, tighter than he expected.

I pulled up my pants and gathered my things.

“You go ahead, I'll leave a little later,” he said.

“Bye,” I replied without meeting his eyes.

When I returned to my room, Oliva wasn't there. I locked the door and stripped down naked. I didn't shower, instead, I spread my legs and touched myself. I pinched my nipples and imagined Avinash. I didn't have much to imagine. I only knew how his dick felt inside me. But in my mind, I kept repeating what he said, "tighter than I thought."

I came hard that night, finally relieved of an aching pussy. The place where his cum had landed on my hair still looked different. The thing about me and Avinash didn't end that evening. There's much more to tell you. But maybe in another letter. Avinash is just a footnote in all the things that I've been doing in these years since you saw me get fucked for the first time.

I wish I had more time to write this letter, but I have to end it here.

Until then.

Yours,
Tia

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